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This is the final chapter of "Black Dragon Rising." I will be publishing it this month under the title "Assassin of the Silver Rose" on Smashwords and Amazon (so it will be available in epub format to all of you out there who have been sending me emails). I will also be publishing "The Nightshade's Apprentice" on Smashwords to get it available on epub devices.
Also, there will be more stories and new chronicles now that Kian's powers and backgrounds are established. I think I may experiment by writing in third person in a brand new trilogy. I'll publish it first on Nifty for all my fans. If you aren't on my mailing list and want to be, please shoot me an email, and I'll let you know when I start publishing again. The problem of course is always time.
Please check out my books on my website. If you want one for FREE, shoot me an email, and I'll send you an electronic copy for a written review on Amazon :). Leaving a GOOD review on Amazon is the best way to put money in an author's pocket. Seriously.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
My exploration ends at an archway. The path before me continues beyond it to a well-lit chamber echoing with many voices uplifted in prayer. However, my eyes fail to see the makers of these sounds. But it really doesn't matter. At the center of this room stands the powerfully-built black wolf with its amber eyes, and he's staring right through me as if I were a pane of glass. An alpha male, the thing bristles with muscular strength. So I steel my resolve and stride forward to face it.
"I require your loyalty," the wolf says to me.
I hesitate and then reply with, "You have it."
"What thought did you have just now? Why did you pause?"
I gaze upon my god with fear. In his presence I feel small and weak; I feel inferior in just about every way. "My thoughts are of no consequence. You have my utter loyalty."
"The centuries are long, Kian Lightfoot. What you do today, binds us together forever. I'm talking about dedication, unconditional love, and unquestioning trust. It's the last that gives you the most trouble, isn't it? I sense you don't trust me."
"How can I?" I ask him. "When you won't even help when I call for it?"
"You speak of the incident at Kaibar?"
"Yes. I need to believe that you won't throw me to the demons. But I can't, especially when it's a hell spawn that saved me, that slew the slobbering Timeron asshole who tried to rape me. How can I give my love to a thing that won't lift a finger in my defense when I require it the most?"
"Kian," the wolf says, "I cannot come to the direct aid of an individual without arousing suspicion from all those who call me god. My brothers and sisters all have rules which we follow. One of these is not to show favoritism by intervening in the affairs of mortals. Instead, we invest power in our worshipers and those that follow us. Have I not given you sufficient power to prevent this very thing?"
I swallow in silence and internalize his words.
"We direct our churches to aid the oppressed. Our clerics minister to the downtrodden and alleviate the many pleas heard in prayer. But, I could no more have aided you in Kaibar than I could have used my Will to split the sea. I sense the pain; the scars left behind by others who've wronged you, and you want someone to blame. How can you be so sure I didn't aid Talen and Angelaria in finding you? Did a trick of the light guide them down a corridor they might have missed? When Talen faced off against a superior foe, did I nudge his weapon to strike a vital area to end the combat quickly? To presume I don't want to help you is the easy way out. I love and care for you, Kian, in more ways than you can possibly imagine. Our friendship is only just beginning. Together we'll accomplish great things, but I need you to give yourself to me in totality. Can you do this?"
I wipe wetness from my cheeks. Confusion and emotions bubble through my core, but most of all I realize that he's right. I'd be a fool to think that Talen could've killed that assassin back in Kaibar all by himself. My best friend should be dead right now. I'd just assumed that my buddy's skill in arms had grown. But it took me years to hone the talents I possess, all while studying under the most ruthless nightshade in the known world. Talen's never shown that kind of dedication, although I certainly think him capable if he puts his mind to it.
"Well?" the wolf asks.
I nod. "You have it," I say. Then I bow my head in shame. "I'm sorry, milord. I-I shouldn't have blamed my shortcomings on you. Nor should I have looked to you to solve all the problems that I bring upon myself because of my own weakness."
The wolf strides forward and licks my face.
I caress the fine black fur lovingly with my fingers. "You have my soul. Everything that I have to give is yours."
The room shimmers in the finality of my submission.
I stand with Tethyr on the top of a huge mountain. He looks regal; his ghost-like visage no longer there but in the flesh as it were. He smiles at me with eyes that twinkle like stars; his hair is windblown and messy. The breeze cools my skin, and I look down from our perch to the water far below. Waves crash against the coral reefs surrounding the island.
"You've passed," Tethyr says. "A Black Dragon Rising you are no more. Today you are the Assassin of the Silver Rose."
"Thank you, milord," I say, taking a knee.
"Kian, I think that in the years to follow it'd be wise for you to learn to read."
I grin sheepishly, heat creeping into my cheeks. I squint as the wind carries a bit of dust into my eyes. "I will, sir."
"You're in love with the girl," Tethyr says. He approaches me in his soft boots, moving with more grace than a willow tree in the wind. "I know you'll try, but she'll not be your wife."
This startles me some. "How do you know?" I ask.
"You're a killer, Kian. And right now, you've little to offer. Women require safety and security, and you're none of these things. I don't say this to disappoint you, but as a warning to steel your heart for the rejection that is sure to come. She'll want a house, and a nice one at that. Women like Angelaria are high maintenance."
"I can get those things in time," I say defensively.
"Aye. You'll be paid well for your services. Perhaps you'll grow wealthy. But being in my employ will mean years on the road. Is that really the kind of life you want for her? She cannot go where I send you. Not if she's with child. You're also a man that doesn't fare well in the absence of regular sex. Talen passed his test, and now that he's under my employ, he'll have his own missions. You'll rarely see him. Think about this for a moment. There will be entire years where you do not see or hear from Talen."
"Talen won't cheat on me," I say defensively.
"I'm not talking about him. And yes, he's in love with you to an absurd level. I've no doubt Talen shall remain pure for you and wait for those rare times when both of you can share a night together. But the devil in these relationships is not Talen, Angelaria, or even your latest conquest...that of the silver-haired elf. It's you."
I swallow hard, realizing what he's saying.
"I understand your biological needs but will she? Is there a number of sexual partners that will be the proverbial straw to break the camel's back? Will she grow weary of a never-ending stream of boys and girls that her husband takes as lovers?" Tethyr turns his face to look out over the ocean. "And there's another thing too. You'll not die of old age Kian Lightfoot. You'll look the same as you do now even after ten thousand generations pass. How will she fare as age makes her look uglier with each passing year?"
I stare at him, feeling (at last) the great burden of being a Disciple of Tethyr. "Do you need me for that long?"
"Maybe longer," he says, shrugging his shoulders. "The future is difficult to see, even for a god."
"There's got to be something. But even if she does grow old, I can stay by her side."
"That kind of compassion is to your merit, Kian. Angelaria has the blood of Milbar flowing in her veins, so I cannot say how she'll age or how the years will treat her. She comes from a long line of witches on her mother's side. She is only just beginning to understand her potential. But consider this: you'll make many enemies in your lifetime, and some will be powerful indeed. Can you stand there and honestly tell me you're ready to safeguard a brood of children and play house?"
I recall the first time I saw Angelaria. It seems like so long ago, but I can still see that chain of gold flowing down from her neck. It's a rainy day and the wind is threatening to blow that vision from my memory.
"I don't deserve her," I whisper, voice catching in my throat.
Tethyr says, "I think she probably feels the same toward you, Kian. You're more beautiful than any boy your age in the entire world. Every part of you is physically perfect. Every part." He pauses for a moment as if gathering his thoughts. "These three tests that you've taken, Kian...you passed as I knew you would. The first of them measured your mind. It was a puzzle designed to test the intricacies of your intelligence. The second was designed to test your physical prowess. The last was designed by me to test the limits of your spirituality. I would have asked you to kill yourself to prove your loyalty and then stopped the blade before your heart ceased to beat. But I didn't have to go that far. I could see in your eyes and in your mind that your loyalty was true; that your love flowed deeper than even a god can hope to be worthy. It's I, Kian, who am undeserving of you."
I look up at him feeling an ache inside me that somehow feels right, even though it hurts.
"Thank you," I say, hands trembling.
He stretches out his fingers and ruffles the hair on the back of my head. Then he steps into me, the heat from his skin warming my own. He parts his lips and kisses me. It's a deep French kiss; it's one that lingers long and scalding on my tongue while he gropes my body with probing hands. Before it's over, I want him to take me. But it doesn't happen even though my entirety yearns to be invaded and plundered by his almighty flesh.
Please fuck me, I say in my mind.
"Not yet," he answers back as a singular thought.
When Tethyr finishes, and I'm standing there stupefied by his gorgeous eyes, he says, "By passing these three tests you've earned the rest of your gifts. These are something unique that I can give you that will define you as an assassin and a thief for the eons to come. These gifts, my son, will flow directly from me, and they shall be of such great power that people will fear and respect you for them. Choose and tell me your deepest desires."
I think carefully, images and wishes coming into my mind. But my travels have prepared me in ways I couldn't have foreseen. What I desire sprouts directly from encounters I've had or things I've observed in others.
"I want the ability to teleport like Angelaria does, only without the use of a spell. Oh, and I don't want limitations on it. I want to be able to do it whenever I want to. I don't necessarily want to travel great distances; small distances would be fine, but I'd want to be able to do it defensively in response to getting attacked, or offensively so that I can sneak attack someone I want to shiv in a vital area without them preparing for it. Could I have something like this?"
Tethyr nods. "Consider it done. I'll call it the quantum sidestep. Your final gift?"
"I want complete immunity to psionics of any kind. I never want to be rendered helpless like I was against the grimlocks that live under the Icewall Mountains. But I want this protection to extend to all psionics and psionic effects. No one is to ever invade my mind or enslave me with their thoughts ever again."
"And of course, do not forget I've already bestowed eternal youth and augmented your athleticism, which is mostly yours with the added touch of the extraordinary."
"I do not forget, milord," I say as humbly as possible. "Three gifts I receive: one of the mind, one of the body, and one of the soul."
He gazes deep into my eyes or maybe it's that I can't pull away from him at all. Either way, I'm open to the vastness of Tethyr's powerful thoughts. I see oceans on the far side of the world, and I look upon clerics in cities with domed minarets. I see thieves gathering before a safe that they want to crack open and images that flicker in my mind of arctic wastes in a distant land. I feel the power of his mind, changing me, shaping me. And then that power leaves and in its place is a strength so incredible it makes my limbs tingle.
"What just happened?" I ask.
"I gave you the gifts that you asked for. They're yours now, always and forever. You just don't know how to use them. This will come in time. But, I've one more thing for you."
Tethyr reaches to his back and withdraws a fabulous sword from a sheath. The blade of it shimmers in rainbow hues and both edges sparkle with a shine that's otherworldly. Blood red runes scar the surface of the blade. In a script that's both weirdly elongated yet strangely beautiful, these runes stretch the full length of the sword, disappearing into the crosspiece just above the handle. The hilt itself is a thing that's almost a foot long, and it's covered in tiny scales made of an odd black metal. Veins crisscross the grip and spiral toward a pommel where a single ruby twice the size of my thumb is set. From deep within the jewel pulses a red light; it seems to echo my own heartbeat.
How strange.
I extend my hand and grasp hold of the weapon. Those veins I spoke of spring from the metal plating, wrap about my wrist, and insert themselves painfully into my flesh to attach to my own vessels. A little blood splashes on the rocks between my boots.
"What's it doing?" I ask.
"I'm drinking your blood," the sword responds. "You tastes delicious."
I clench my teeth; the runes along the blade flush red. The sword vibrates with energy.
"Are you my master?" the blade asks.
"How are you talking?" I ask.
"Only you can hear me," Bloodbane says. "In time, you'll learn to not move your mouth when we speak. I'm an ancient weapon, master, and now it seems my destiny is to serve you. Know that I cannot be broken. Not by any force in all the planes of existence. I'm a blade of cibrian metal, forged in the deepest pits of Acheron in a pit of fire where all hatred is made. I will ignore most magical protections that wizards and high clerics of other gods will use to protect themselves. The wounds I strike can never heal and when I cut, it is only to slay. I was made to kill. That is my only purpose. If you understand this from the beginning, we shall become good friends. I draw blood from you but only to feed; I shall not permanently damage you. In fact, I can sustain you when poison or other toxins seek to destroy you. My filtering system will purify your blood. By working together, we achieve greatness. Draw me often, and I shall destroy anything that stands before you without mercy."
I glance at Tethyr and my god seems to know everything that the sword is telling me.
"What have I done?" I ask, holding Bloodbane in a trembling grip.
"You've taken the first step to embracing your destiny. In a few years, 'Hunter' will be a name spoken in fear and in hushed whispers. The darkness has been invited inside you, Kian. Once there, you can never let go of it," Tethyr says.
Together we descend the mountain, taking a path that reveals itself before my god as mist parts before the wind. Waiting for us at the bottom are my friends. Once they see I'm alive and AFTER Talen's gotten a good look at my sword does he show me his.
"Emerald Shamrock," Talen says with pride. The thing doesn't look as damning as Bloodbane, but I suppose it's suited to his demeanor. My sword's just evil, and maybe that says more about me than I'm willing to admit right now.
Tethyr says that the hilt of Emerald Shamrock is carved from the tooth of an ancient green dragon. That's a fascinating fact, but the awe doesn't stop there. It bears upon its surface bold indentations of four-leaf clovers, which have themselves been inlaid with emeralds and green sapphires. The pommel is platinum made to look very much like the hat of a leprechaun. The blade, of course, is also cibrian but I doubt it was forged in the birthplace of all hatred. The fact that my sword is strikes fear in my heart. Emerald Shamrock is exquisitely sharp on both sides and balanced as well as my own weapon.
Talen chose for his powers a complete immunity to magic, and the ability to control, produce, and manipulate all things metal. I secretly think that Talen chose these gifts thinking that Tethyr would allow him to get rich by producing gold. But to Talen's dismay, objects that he creates slowly fall apart if he doesn't maintain his thoughts upon them.
Angelaria says, "I must return to Sulasia for there's much I need to do there. Will you come with me?"
I look to Tethyr but he shakes his head. "I've a mission for Hunter and Tiburon. Hunter, I command you to attend the Valion knight council with Vicar Luminara. A holy war brews in the Far East, one which threatens the Great Houses and the supply of corobidian from Kala-Pur. You are to present yourself to my Vicar in the city of Rimaldorini near the Bay of the Seven Dragons and do exactly as she tells you."
"Is it Kahket?"
"Yes," Tethyr says.
"What of me?" Talen asks.
"Tiburon, I send you after the Tickler of Chagidiel. You are to gather information from the ranks of Chagidiel's church and report back to the war council set to convene in one month in the capital city of Kandeleya. Present yourself before the emperor who cannot deny you audience once he becomes aware of whom you serve. The whole world is about to erupt in a never-ending war, and both my sons will have a pivotal role in the turning of the tide."
Angelaria blinks, and there's a sadness in her eyes. But there's also one of steely resolve. She kisses me and whispers, "You know how and where to find me."
"I'll come looking for you," I say to her.
Correldon steps forward and shakes my hand. "Don't forget me as I'll never forget you."
"I won't, friend," I say to him. Then I kiss him goodbye too.
When we part, Tethyr waves his hand and Angelaria and Correldon vanish. I presume that he sent them home.
Tethyr lays at our feet two new killsuits. "Please take better care of it," he says to me. "I've made a few spares in case they become too badly damaged, but you'd have to return to this island to retrieve them. You won't be able to use the magic in the pyramid any more. To get here, you'll have to come by ship."
I swallow, and then take a knee as does Talen.
"Thank you, milord," we both say in unison.
When I'm all suited up in my brand new killsuit and enjoying how it feels on my bare skin I have a thought. I'm no longer just Kian Lightfoot. I'm the Black Dragon Assassin of the Silver Rose, disciple to the god of thieves, and I wield the most deadly weapon in the world. At this time, very few people are privy to this knowledge. However, soon the whole world will know me as Hunter, as Disciple to the God of Thieves, and as the Assassin of the Silver Rose. I think it's this thought that warms me the most.
Here ends my novel, "Black Dragon Rising." I hope you enjoyed it. Kian will return in a new story soon, and I'll let you know when IF you're on my mailing list. If someone would like to contribute a simple one sentence by-line for me for my cover, I'd really appreciate it.